


Just a Whisper

by blue_jack



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bottom Steve Rogers, Exhibitionism, M/M, Object Insertion, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Top Tony Stark, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony’s always had a little voyeuristic streak in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Whisper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gadgetorious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gadgetorious/gifts).



> This is for the amazing gadgetorious, because she is awesome like that. Merry Christmas, bb! <33333 
> 
> I must apologize that this isn't as porntastic as I'd originally planned, but I've been sick and decidedly not in the porn-writing mood. Also, writing sex toy fic is a lot harder than I remember it being. Seriously, this was attempt number 5. Ugh, what is my life?

Tony’s always had a little voyeuristic streak in him. Maybe it comes from being an engineer. Part of the job description is seeing how things work after all, taking them apart and figuring out ways to make them better, and he’s learned to appreciate the beauty of something well-built. 

And Steve is spectacularly well-built. 

“C’mon, Steve, relax,” he says soothingly, managing to push the vibrator in that tiniest bit more against the clench of muscles that would bar his way. “Let me in, baby.”

Of course, even when the mood to observe is on him, he doesn’t really mind getting his hands dirty. What can he say? He’s a helpful kind of guy.

Steve moans, strong thighs framing Tony’s arm, which is still clothed, because he’d liked the contrast of his black shirt and pants against the paleness of Steve’s skin. It’s all about the visuals right now, and Steve is a cornucopia of delights. 

The only thing that would make it better would be if Tony had more of a front row seat as it were, if he were sitting in between Steve’s legs so he could watch up close and personal as Steve took the vibrator deeper and deeper. Instead he’s more in the wings, lying on his side next to Steve and only getting to imagine what it looks like. 

Maybe next time, though, assuming Steve ends up enjoying this enough that there is a next time. To that end, Tony’s attempting to be considerate, which isn’t really his strong suit normally, but Steve had been hesitant about letting him bring accessories into their bed, so Tony’s trying to not make him more tense by staring too obviously.

He’s not doing that great so far, but whatever, it’s the thought that counts, right?

Besides, it’s not like he’s suffering or anything. There’s definitely something to be said about being able to see the way Steve’s mouth falls open, lips swollen and wet from where he’s been licking them, to see the wrinkle in his brow as he struggles to accommodate the vibrator’s size. They’re such small signs, but they signify so much about what Steve’s willing to do for Tony, what he’s willing to let Tony do to him.

It’s no more than what Tony would do for him in return, but nevertheless it fills Tony with a sweet ache to know that Steve is his.

He turns the base of the vibrator to the lowest setting and nuzzles against Steve’s jaw as Steve shudders, letting out a sound that makes Tony want to know what would happen if he turned it up all the way. He refrains, although just barely. He doesn’t want things to be over that quickly, though, hasn’t gotten his fix yet of Steve flushed with desire, his body moving helplessly against the relentless hum of the toy inside him. 

“Tony,” Steve gasps, his legs closing, tightening around Tony’s arm while his knuckles turn white from how his fingers are gripping the sheets. “Tony.”

“I’ve got you,” Tony says, shifting down lower, trailing kisses down Steve’s face, his neck, licking and sucking at his nipples as Steve threatens to shake apart. He keeps his hand on the base of the vibrator and pulls it out slightly before pushing it back in, biting down on pebbled skin as a reward for the long drawn-out groan Steve makes.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” he says truthfully and then is promptly annoyed with how it results in Steve bringing his hands up to hold onto the slats of the headboard so he can turn his face into his arm. 

He’s blocking Tony’s _view_.

“Don’t be like that,” he says, cajoling and _not_ whining, reaching up to tug lightly on Steve’s arm, but Steve refuses to cooperate. “Steve? Hey, c’mon, Steve?”

No answer.

Well, fuck. How unfair is that? Considerate, shamiderate. Tony wants to _see_ , and if Steve won’t let him look at the top, then all that’s left is the bottom.

He gets up, pushing one of Steve’s legs down and straddling it so Steve can’t move away. He nips at Steve’s stomach as he does it, just because. Seriously, who could pass up getting their mouth on Steve’s eight-pack? Not Tony, that’s for damn sure.

Putting his hand on the back of Steve’s other thigh, he pushes it up closer to Steve’s body, all prepared for Steve to make an issue of it. But while Steve keeps his face averted and stiffens his body, it only lasts for a second, and then he’s giving in and allowing Tony to put him on display.

“Damn,” Tony murmurs, and because Tony’s always been a firm believer that if someone gives him an inch, it means he can take a mile, he moves his hand up higher on Steve’s leg so Steve’s even more exposed.

Steve groans at that, low and needy, thigh flexing under Tony’s fingers as he draws it up even closer to his chest all on his own, and woah. Tony really hadn’t been expecting that. 

He’s not complaining though, hell no, and he stares and stares and stares, taking in the way Steve’s balls are high and tight against his cock, the way he’s stretched obscenely around the vibrator, the way the excess lube is dripping down onto the mattress.

Tony’s been conscious of his own arousal, of the pulse and burn in his veins, but he’s been keeping it bay, too intent on cataloguing every shiver, every hitch of breath. Unfortunately, that isn’t so much of an option anymore.

Tony tries to force the sudden urgency down—he’s not done looking, doesn’t know that he’s ever going to feel satisfied really—but his hand might be a trifle unsteady when he lets go of the vibrator in order to trace the slick, taut skin surrounding it.

Steve makes a choked sound, his hips lifting off the bed for a second like he’s offering himself up to Tony, and okay, fuck, yeah, _really_ not an option.

Tony increases the intensity of the vibrations, angling the toy to get as much contact with Steve’s prostate as possible, and grits his teeth sympathetically as Steve cries out, his cock twitching against his stomach, little spatters of come marking his skin. 

“Gorgeous,” Tony says again, just as sincerely, and this time, Steve doesn’t fight him. If anything, it seems to spur him on, the arm that’s not covering his face moving down so Steve can grab his cock, stroking himself roughly once and then twice before Tony is able to pull him away.

Ignoring Steve’s disappointed moan, Tony says, “Like this,” and puts Steve’s hand on the vibrator instead, momentarily pressing against the end to show him just what he wants him to do. Yes, Tony admits that he’s greedy and selfish, but he doesn’t want Steve to finish before he can join in, and holding onto the vibrator should keep Steve occupied enough, even if Tony doubts Steve will do much with it in the interim.

Of course, Tony hadn’t thought about what the sight of Steve gripping the fake cock inside of himself would do to him.

Why _the hell_ is his belt so damn complicated all the sudden?

He’d swear that he only looks down for just a second, one teeny-tiny second, but his head pops up in a hurry when he hears the high-pitched whine. 

Steve is . . . 

Wow. 

Tony’s pants slide down to his knees unnoticed.

Steve is fucking himself with the vibrator. He’s _going to town_ with none of the care for his body’s limits that Tony had shown him, shoving past the resistance until there’s none left, each thrust accompanied by a low grunt and a wet, thick sound that leaves Tony woozy.

He tries to swallow, but he feels parched, his mouth too dry to give him any kind of relief, and fuck, what is Steve _doing_ to him?

Steve lets go of the headboard, laying his arm across his eyes, and the movements of his other hand get sharper, harder as he splays his leg wide—

“Oh, fuck you,” Tony breathes, scrabbling for the vibrator and knocking Steve’s hand to the side. He thinks he sees a small, victorious smile on Steve’s face, but then it’s gone as Steve gasps, going rigid when Tony jerks the vibrator out.

Any other time, Tony would be mesmerized by the reddened, shining skin around Steve’s hole, by the way it can’t quite close back up, leaving Steve open and unsatisfied. Right now, however, he’s too concerned with yanking his boxers out of the way and getting into place, with lining his cock up and thrusting inside to worry about it.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony moans, his voice strangled. He hadn’t bothered to lube himself up since they’d already used so much getting the vibrator in, and he’d assumed there’d be enough.

There is. Just.

The groan Steve lets out sounds like it’s wrenched out of him, harsh and guttural, and his knees come up and squeeze Tony’s torso painfully.

“Shit, are you okay?” Tony asks anxiously, or at least he tries to, but Steve is wrapping his hand around the back of Tony’s neck and hauling him down, the kiss almost vicious. If that weren’t answer enough, Steve wraps his legs around him so Tony’s cock impales him further, splits him apart if the broken cry is any indication, and Tony imagines he can taste the desperation on Steve’s tongue.

“Lube,” Tony pants against Steve’s mouth, even as his fingers clutch Steve closer. “Let me—”

“ _No_ ,” Steve says, and then he’s rolling them over so Tony’s flat on his back, and Tony doesn’t even have the chance to curse the fact that his cock has slipped free before Steve’s sinking back onto it.

Steve pins him and takes what he want, rising up and then plunging down, moaning and shuddering like he’s never had anything so good. It has to hurt; fuck, it’s hurting _Tony_ a little bit, the tightness, the incredible friction. The pain’s nothing in comparison to how amazing it feels, but still. Tony doesn’t think Steve realizes how sore he’s going to be later, and as the person with more experience in these matters, he should act as the voice of reason and stop Steve before they get any more carried away.

And he is going to stop him. 

Any minute now.

Shit, who is he kidding? Steve is fucking _riding_ him, his cock bouncing against his stomach, his expression twisted in pleasure. Tony’s not stopping him. Like not ever, if he can get away with it.

Except while the spirit is willing, the body is weak, because the sight and feel of Steve is decimating his control. 

“Steve,” he gasps, thrusting upward as Steve comes down, and oh fuck, this isn’t going to last long at all. 

He’s determined that Steve climax first—his pride won’t accept anything less, especially since Steve’d had the damn vibrator in him for a good five, ten minutes before Tony had even gotten his clothes off. Steve’s holding onto his upper arms, but Tony’s hands are free, and when Steve falters at the first brush of Tony’s fingers, Tony knows he’s going to win. 

He’s not above cheating to ensure his victory, however, so he angles his hips to best advantage and adds a twist of his wrist to the end of each stroke, cupping Steve’s balls with his palm while his fingers press against the skin behind them. He is the fucking king of multitasking. 

“Tony, I can’t . . .” Steve bites his lip, fucking Tony’s fist and then pushing back onto his cock, his movements getting more and more jerky with each pass. 

“It’s alright.” Tony doesn’t wheeze out the words, but it’s a near thing. If Steve doesn’t come soon, he’s going to have to resort to something drastic. He doesn’t know what that is, but it’ll probably involve the vibrator and way more lube than they currently have in the room, and he really doesn’t know if Steve’s ready for that yet that. Of course, he hadn’t realized Steve had such an exhibitionist streak either, so shows what he knows. 

He squeezes Steve’s cock harder, pressing down with his thumb against the head. “Do it. I want you to.”

Steve is a sight to behold when he comes, all bunched muscles and frantic pleasure. Tony watches him while he can with a little bit of awe and a whole lot of relief, his own orgasm crashing through him so forcefully that it leaves him reeling. Or maybe that’s just the effect Steve has on him, with his kind smiles and quirky humor and surprisingly—wonderfully—kinky ways.

“Thank you,” Tony says a little later when he’s spooning Steve and the silence is turning fragile. He’d been raised to be polite, and even if he doesn’t _choose_ to be all the time, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how. 

“For what?” Steve asks quietly, body tensing slightly.

“Oh, for being a good sport about the whole thing; for not being weirded out by the things I like; for just being you, I guess,” Tony says and hugs him a little tighter until Steve relaxes in his arms. 

“I . . . liked it,” Steve says, and he sounds like he’s waiting for judgment.

“I’m glad,” Tony says honestly and pulls him closer.

Another minute goes by before Tony says, “You know, I think I forgot to turn off the vibrator,” and the last of the tension fades away in the flurry of them searching for the source of the muted buzzing.


End file.
